


You, Me and The Cover-up

by JustSomeGirlll



Series: Murder, Lies and Alibis [2]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Detectives, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst, Endgame Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor, F/F, Fluff, Minor Alex Danvers/Maggie Sawyer, More tags to be added as we go, Murder Mystery, the angst is gonna be intense folks, there'll be plenty of twisty twists, you'll wanna buckle yourselves in
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-08
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-11-13 20:55:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18038870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustSomeGirlll/pseuds/JustSomeGirlll
Summary: When Kara and Lena solved the murder of a high school history teacher with a secret, they uncovered far more than either of them bargained for. Now, with the case closed and secrets revealed, a threat from the past resurfaces, threatening everything they thought to be true. With lies and deceit everywhere they look, and a new relationship to navigate, will Kara and Lena be able to uncover the truth before it's too late?AKA part 2 of the detective AU





	1. Chapter I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, folks!
> 
> Lovely to be back and I'm very excited to kick-start part two. Big thanks for all the kudos and comments on the previous part. I've had a great time reading and responding to all your comments, and I loved reading your reactions, and it truly put a smile on my face that you all seemed to like the last part. Also, you can come find me on Tumblr [@just-some-girlll](https://just-some-girlll.tumblr.com/).
> 
> A quick note if you're new: this is part two, and you're more than welcomed to start here, but I would recommend reading part one first, as this is a direct continuation.
> 
> Happy reading :)

 

*          *          *

 

NOW

“Mom?”

Kara’s not actually sure if those are the words that come out of her mouth. She knows that that’s what she wants to say. What else is there for her to say? She stands stock-still, Lena by her side, and looking at her mother. Her mother who is dead.

This isn’t real.

Kara focuses in on the clock that hangs on her wall, counting along to the constant _tick-tock-tick-tock_ – something Alex had taught her shortly after her parents died. She said that counting along to something that’s consistent might help her calm down if she was ever feeling overwhelmed. And it helped. For the first year after everything happened, that’s what Kara would do. She found – still finds – the predictability and dependability of the clock soothing.

She squeezes her eyes shut, counts along to the clock, and clenches and unclenches her fists. She expects to open her eyes and find her living room empty, hopes that whatever cruel trick her brain is trying to play ends. It doesn’t. Her mother is still here.

How! How is she still here?

Lena’s hand is grounding, Kara finds. And so, she squeezes, makes sure this is all real, that this isn’t some dream. She almost doesn’t want Lena to squeeze back. If she does, then this is all real. Then her mother is somehow alive and standing in her home.

Lena squeezes back and uses her thumb to rub small, soothing circles on the top of her hand. This helps.

Kara can’t stop looking at the woman who looks so much like her mother. Perhaps this is just Astra playing some cruel trick, but the smile on the woman’s face is soft and familiar and so undeniably maternal. This is Alura. This _is_ her mother.

“Hi, sweetie,” Alura says, her tone soft and warm, and she even takes a step forward in an attempt to bridge the gap between them.

Kara’s immediate reaction is to take a step back and she pulls Lena with her on account of their hands still being joint together. And the second Kara takes that step back, she watches a sliver of hurt wash over her mother’s face. Part of Kara wants to apologise, wants to run and hug her mother and tell her she didn’t mean to upset her.

She doesn’t.

She shouldn’t have to. She isn’t the one who left her daughter alone. She isn’t the one who let her daughter cry out in agony when she was finally alone after the funeral. And she isn’t the one who pretended to be dead for fifteen years. She didn’t do that.

Kara opens her mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. She’s grasping at words, at sounds, desperate to form some kind of coherent thought. There’s so much she wants to know, _deserves_ to know, that she doesn’t even know where to begin, so she stands there, gaping like a fish.

Alura decides to speak first, maybe try to move this situation along.

“Kara,” she begins in that familiar warm and honey-sweet voice that used to tell her bedtime stories. She takes another step towards Kara, and again, Kara takes a step back, pulling Lena with her.

Moving back seems to be the only thing she can do right now.

Nothing happens for a moment.

Then, when Kara finally seems to comprehend the situation, she looks at her mother – really looks at her – and there’s a slither of hope that creeps across Alura’s face before it dissolves into pain when Kara’s face hardens and she looks at her mother with eyes that are trying to burn a searing hole. It’s how Kara looks when she’s in the interrogation room.

“What’re you- _how_ are you here?” Kara says, her voice hard but broken.

It feels like Kara’s having the wound she spent so long trying to stitch up, re-opened and then having bleach poured right in.

“I know that you must have plenty of questions, but I don’t think now is the best time to answer them,” Alura says, casting a quick glance at Lena, seemingly acknowledging her presence for the first time tonight.

Kara sees what Alura means, what she’s hinting at, and she will not stand for it. She tugs softly at Lena’s hand, inviting her to move closer to her, and she gives Lena such a soft and affectionate look, that it removes all doubt of staying from Lena’s mind.

“No. I think now is a good time for answers,” Kara says, voice firm and eyes like daggers again as she looks back at her mother.

“I’m sorry,” Alura says.

Kara laughs. “You’re sorry? That’s all you think to say right now?” And Kara’s looking at her mother, expecting her, waiting for her to say something that can maybe explain everything.

Nothing.

“How ‘bout ‘I really fucked up when I faked my death and let my thirteen-year-old daughter think I was dead for fifteen years?’ Does that work?”

“I didn’t mean for this to happen,” is what Alura seems to settle on.

Kara barks out another laugh. “I should hope not. How fucked up would it be if you did mean for this to all happen! If you did mean to let your thirteen-year-old daughter think you were dead! If did mean to _leave_ me!”

Nothing.

“I had to bury empty caskets.” Kara doesn’t say it as a question or anything that leaves room for argument. It’s a fact. Simple and plain. “Do you have any idea what that did to me; watching as two empty boxes were lowered into the ground!”

Nothing.

“I didn’t think so.” Kara takes a breath. “I spent so long learning to be okay with it, learning to heal and move on. I was never the same after the accident – there was always a small piece of me that just felt dead. But I moved on. I learnt to enjoy living again and I did find peace, and I think I’m closer than ever to regrowing what _you_ killed.” Kara squeezes Lena’s hand again.

“If you just let me explain-”

“Is Dad alive?” Kara says, with no regard for whatever her mother has to say. “Is he just waiting for the right time to jump out and surprise me? Or did he wait in the car because you two are just going to leave again and he really couldn’t be bothered to climb the stairs?”

“No, your father isn’t here,” Alura says, and hurt seems to fill her eyes as she says this, as though she’s remembering something painful. Kara misses this.

“Well, where is he then?”

“Kara,” Lena says, soft and quiet, gently tugging on her arm to stop her from saying whatever she was about to say. “I don’t think that’s what she meant.”

The realisation dawns on Kara, like a freight train barrelling down the tracks towards her, never stopping or slowing. It sits heavy on Kara and she can feel her eyes start to burn.

“I’m sorry, sweetie. He’s dead.”

“How long?”

“Thirteen years now.”

“Oh.” She releases some of the tension from her body, but it only gets replaced with hurt and agony all over again. It’s like she’s reliving _that_ day – the day she lost them both for the first time.

“How?” is all Kara manages to get out, sounding gravely and shattered.

“Some dangerous people found out we were still alive,” is all Alura says, and Kara’s smart enough to fill in the blanks.

There’s nothing for the longest time.

“Why did you leave me?” Kara doesn’t sound angry anymore, just hurt and wretched and like she did when Eliza first told her. She sounds like she’s thirteen again, only just learning of her parents’ death. “Wh-what could’ve been so bad that you had let me think you were _dead_?”

Alura sighs and takes another step to Kara. This time, Kara doesn’t back away. She stays put and allows her mother to approach. She rests a warm and soft palm on Kara’s cheek and Kara lets her eyes close at the gentle pressure.

Kara almost doesn’t want to hear the answer. She just wants to stay like this, in this moment forever. Lena’s warm by her side, fingers twisted together, and her mother is alive and real.

“We never wanted to leave you. Your father and I love you so much and it nearly killed us to leave you the way we did.”

“Why then?” Kara’s eyes are open again, glassy and red.

Alura retracts her hand and takes a step back. “Some dangerous people your father and I thought were gone forever, resurfaced. We knew that they’d never leave us alone. The only way for _you_ to be safe, would be if we left.”

“Who?” Kara’s quick to ask, springing back into detective mode despite the tears and pain.

“Criminals. Very dangerous criminals.”

“Well, I make a living by catching criminals – we both do.” Kara looks to Lena, sounding more hopeful. “Just give us a name and we can find them.”

“It’s not that easy, Kara. If it were, you father and I never would have left. These people are high up. They’re untouchable.”

More silence and Kara doesn’t think she’s ever heard silence quite this loud. It’s ringing and buzzing, and somehow her brain is throbbing; her heart is thumping, beating against her ribs like it’s trying escape; and Kara’s sure she can hear whatever conversation her neighbours are having right now. Everything’s getting louder, wrapping her in a near suffocating embrace. She’s trying to understand everything, wrap her mind around this colossal mind fuck, but she can’t. It’s too much. Everything is too much.

 

*          *          *

 

THEN

Kara’s eyes snapped open, her chest thumped up and down. Her long pyjamas clung to her body and she could feel a thin sheen of sweat encasing her body. She looked around the room she was in, trying to steady her breathing. Alex was there, fast asleep and comforter pulled up and tight around her neck to ward off the icy chill.

The room was still unfamiliar to her, the bed she was in didn’t feel like _her_ bed. It wasn’t. It wasn’t her home. She wanted to go home. She wanted her parents back.

Kara crept out of bed, careful not wake Alex, and all the way down the stairs and out the front door.

She didn’t feel quite as hot anymore, but her heart was still racing.

Kara walked down to the bottom of the driveway and stopped at the curb, looking booth ways despite the fact that it was well after midnight.

“You running away?” a voice said.

Kara spun around, and even in the dark she could see Alex standing behind her, coat and scarf held close to her body.

“I miss my bed,” is all Kara said.

Alex nodded and took a step closer, careful though.

“The bed you all gave me is great, but it’s just- it’s not mine. It doesn’t smell like me, and the mattress is too soft and the pillows are to flat and I just- I want my bed.”

Alex took another step closer.

“I miss my bed and my house.” Kara was rambling, her words choking up. “And the way my dad drove me to school, and how my mom helped me with my history homework.” The tears fell from her eyes and her legs gave out beneath her.

Alex grabbed Kara and slowly they sunk to the ground. She wrapped her arms firm around Kara’s body and rocked gently, rubbing circles on Kara’s back.

“I miss them.”

“I know.”

“I want them to come back.”

“I know.”

“I don’t want to feel like this.”

“I know.”

 

*          *          *

 

NOW

She can’t be here. She needs to get out.

 _Get out get out get out!_ Her brain is screaming.

“I’ll be right back,” Kara says, dropping Lena’s hand and sprinting out of her apartment, not even glancing back.

She runs through the corridor and can feel the walls closing in. The stairs are so much worse. It’s suffocating and it’s like she has to push on the walls just to keep them apart, and she’s burning up. Kara tugs her scarf loose on the final flight of stairs and drops it just inside the door to the roof.

She uses all the energy she has left to push through the door and pull her coat off as though it’s on fire and burning her. She tosses it to the ground and spreads her arms wide, inviting the deep dark sky in for a hug.

She can breathe and the relief is immediate.

Kara isn’t sure how much time passes, but knows it can’t be more than a few minutes, when she hears the door open and close behind her. Glancing back, she smiles when she sees Lena standing on the roof. Lena comes to stand beside Kara, still keeping her distance.

More silence, but Kara welcomes it this time. It’s a quiet silence.

“Is she still down there?” Kara says.

“Yes. I think she knew you needed space to process everything. She thought it would be best if she stayed down there.”

Nothing.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Lena says.

“No.”

“Do you want me to go?”

“No.” Kara reaches out for Lena’s hand and laces their fingers together.

“Can I hug you?”

“Please.”

Lena pulls Kara in for a hug, wraps her arms around her body and holds her close. Kara burrows her head into Lena’s neck and the final amounts of tension fades from her body.

“This okay?” Lena says.

“Tighter,” is all Kara says.

Lena tightens her hold on Kara and gives her everything she’s got and hopes – hopes more than anything – that this is enough, at least for now.

“Thank you,” Kara says, her voice muffled.

“For what?”

“Being here. Staying. Everything.”

“Of course.”

 

*          *          *

 

After ten minutes on the roof, Kara and Lena descend down the stairs and return to Kara’s apartment. Kara opens the door slow, almost hesitant, expecting to see Alura still standing in the middle of her living room. However, when they step inside, they see that they’re alone.

A window that leads out onto the fire escape is open, and Kara knows it wasn’t before because of the icy December chill. The breeze that creeps in causes the curtains to flutter and sends a shiver down their spines.

Alura is gone. Again.

The only thing that proves she was ever actually there, and that this whole night hasn’t been some fever dream, is the open window and a note left on the kitchen island. Kara debates reading the note, thinks of just balling it up and throwing it away so it can’t ever hurt her. She even goes so far as scrunching it up, and just as she’s about to drop it into the bin, Kara stops herself.

She unfolds the piece of paper and reads the note:

‘Kara,

‘I’m truly sorry for everything I’ve put you through, and I’m sorry that I’ve left again. It’s not safe for me to be out for long periods of time – it was a risk for me to come see you. I’ll be in touch soon.

‘All my love, Mom.’

“She left,” Kara says, flat and eyeing the piece of paper with such intensity that it looks like she’s trying to ignite it into flames. “No way to contact her. Just left. _Again_.”

“I’m sorry.” Lena steps up to Kara and rests her hand on Kara’s forearm.

“Don’t be. You’re not the one who let me think you were dead for fifteen years.” She drops the note into the bin and turns to face Lena fully now, a new smile on her face. “Come on, I promised you dinner and quality Television.”

“Are you sure? If you’d rather be alone-”

“No, no. I want you here.” And the smile Kara gives Lena says more than words ever could. “After tonight, I think we’ve earned a somewhat normal end to it.”

“Lead the way then.” Lena smiles and lets Kara pull her toward the couch, picking up the bag of food she dropped by the door as Kara pulls her along.

They drop into the couch and divide up the food.

Nothing else matters, Kara decides once they’ve finished their food and are watching TV. Whatever reason her mother had for leaving and then resurfacing fifteen years later doesn’t matter. Because right now, in this moment with Lena pressed up against her side, all warm and sleepy and unfairly cute, is what matters.

 

*          *          *

 


	2. Chapter II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello folks!
> 
> I'm stoked to see that so many of you are excited that part two is here - I'm also keen for this. I've had this all planned out since day one and I cannot wait to share this story with you all. I've loved reading your comments and I love seeing so many of you get so invested in the story and share your theories and ideas. You can come find me on Tumblr [@just-some-girlll](https://just-some-girlll.tumblr.com/).
> 
> Happy reading :)

 

*          *          *

 

NOW

Sunlight streaming in through open windows is what wakes the pair on Kara’s couch, and it surprises Lena just how comfortable she feels. She’s fallen asleep on couches before and never has she not woken up with a sore back. Not this morning though. This morning she feels warm and safe and unbelievably comfortable. What also comes as a surprise to Lena is that she doesn’t feel awkward when she realises she’s practically laying on top of Kara. Those nerves that were so overwhelming when she woke up in Kara’s bed the previous morning are completely gone. She’s still nervous, but this feels right.

Kara grumbles in protest below her when Lena pushes herself up. They offer each other a smile before saying anything.

“Breakfast?” Kara says, her voice a little rough with sleep and eyelids still heavy.

Lena nods. “What’re you thinking?”

“Cereal okay? I haven’t been out to get groceries in a while, so I’m kinda running low on food.”

“Cereal sounds wonderful.”

Kara beams and grabs Lena’s hand, pulling her up and to the kitchen.

They don’t speak about last night or what happened between them the night before, and Lena wants to, really, she does, but a small part of her is scared. Scared that she wants Kara, and maybe, just maybe, needs her too. So, she’s glad that she doesn’t have to face this yet, and that she can just use her boxes and pack everything away to deal with later.

It’s still early, so when breakfast is done, Lena leaves to go home and change, and as they’re saying goodbye at Kara’s door, their hug lingers and Lena can feel that spark again, humming through her body.

“I’ll see you at work,” Kara says.

“See you.”

And then, Lena’s gone.

Kara pushes the door shut and leans back against it, sliding down it and to the ground. A small little piece of her brain is telling her to just get back up and run after Lena, and she almost does – almost. With everything around her lacking answers right now, she wants some kind of answer of what everything between them means.

But she doesn’t.

Kara sighs and bangs her head against the door.

 

*          *          *

 

When Kara steps into the bullpen, all fresh and clean, she can see the back of Lena’s head in J’onn’s office. J’onn steps out of his office, and without any words, orders her to come in.

Kara drops into the seat beside Lena and shoots her a quizzical look as J’onn closes the office door. Lena only shrugs.

“We need to talk about your case,” J’onn says, leaning forward on his desk. “I want to commend you for your dedication and hard work in solving it and uncovering the corruption.”

“Thank you, sir,” Lena and Kara both say, but there’s hesitance in their voices.

“However, you do need to be punished for insubordination.” J’onn raises his hand to silence Kara and Lena who were just about to jump in and defend their actions. “I know it’s not fair, but rules are rules. You’ll both do night shifts for the rest of this week. And you’ll work on Saturdays for the rest of the month to reorganise the evidence room. Clear?”

 

*          *          *

 

It comes as no surprise to Kara and Lena to learn that Edge had a say in their punishment. However, they are glad to learn that J’onn was able to get the month of night shift down to three days and spending every Saturday for the month reorganising the evidence room.

The first night is slow. Nothing happens, and Kara and Lena talk, but they still keep to themselves. However, as the hours of the second night dwindle on, they begin to enjoy it. The building is almost empty, save for a handful of officers, so it’s a stark difference to the chaos of working during the morning and days.

By the time two o’clock in the morning rolls around, Kara and Lena have both finished their paperwork, and with almost nothing else to do, they play I Spy, which quickly morphs into twenty questions when they’ve spied just about every object in the bullpen.

“Have you heard from your mom?” Lena says when they’re done with their game and sitting in silence.

Kara shakes her head. “I don’t even think I want to anyway.”

Lena sits upright in her chair and shoots Kara a curious look, urging her to continue.

“It’s just, I dunno.” Kara sighs, trying to find the right words. “Like, I think part of me will always want an answer, you know? But I just… I don’t think I could handle it. When I lost them the first time, it nearly killed me, and it took me so long to _try_ to heal, to _want_ to heal. I just don’t think I can go through that again.”

“Can I be honest?” Lena says.

“Always.”

“I have no idea what to say in this situation. What you’re going through – I can’t even begin to imagine what that must be like. But, I do know that you're strong, that you can handle anything that comes your way, and you learning to heal after the accident is a testament to that.” Lena rolls her chair around to Kara’s desk and the small little boxes she thought were packed so tight and pushed so deep, tell her to reach for Kara’s hand and lace their fingers together. So, she does. “I’m with you in this. If you want answers, I’ll help where I can. If you don’t, then I’ll support that. Just know that you aren’t alone. Also, I’m your partner so you’re kind of stuck with me.”

Kara manages a small laugh at that, and she knows now that this is it. Lena is it for her and it’s now that she realises how obvious it’s been since day one. Of course, in the midst of Kara’s realisation, words allude her, and instead of thinking about her next choice of words, she says the first thing that springs to her mind.

“Your bra is still on my floor.”

Upon realising what spews out of her mouth, Kara’s quick to clamp her hands over her mouth, eyes going wide. She wants to smack herself. She deserves it.

Nothing happens for a second, and then Lena’s… laughing?

She is laughing, and it’s not some small and polite laugh, it’s a real laugh. The kind of laugh that leaves you gasping for air and unable to compose yourself for several minutes after.

“I’m sorry,” Lena says, trying and failing to suppress her laughter. “It’s just, well, I don’t think it’s possible for you to be any less smooth.”

Kara’s cheeks tinge just the faintest bit red. “Sorry, I um, I didn’t mean to just, you know, _say_ that. Well, I guess I did, but with more… finesse? And maybe not those words exactly.”

Lena laughs again and it sends a small jolt of pride through Kara; pride that she was able to make Lena laugh with something she said.

“I suppose we should talk about it, huh?” Lena says when her laughter subsides, and the soft buzz of the fluorescent lights is all that remains.

“We don’t have to,” Kara’s quick to say. “I mean, you moved here for a fresh start, so I get it if you don’t want anything. If all you want to be are partners, that’s totally fine; I get it and I promise I won’t ever bring it up again.”

Lena’s little boxes are shaking now, everything she spent weeks pushing into them is ready to break free. She entertains the idea of letting everything out, of what it would be like if her and Kara became something more. She thinks of breakfast dates, lazy nights in, and walking into work together. And then she thinks about the logistics of working together. Of what a relationship could do to their partnership, or what a partnership could do to their relationship, and it’s scary. Because Lena realises, with frightening clarity, that Kara can so easily become her entire world – probably is in some respects already – and that she could lose her world in a matter of seconds.

“Lena, I want this. I want us. You and me.”

And maybe it’s the earnestness in Kara’s voice, the way she looks at her in complete awe, the fact that she realises how whole Kara makes her feel, or some combination of all three – but Lena’s answer is yes. Is always going to be yes.

“Me too.”

“So, we’re doing this.” Kara’s smile widens and her eyes glimmer in such a special way that Lena knows her answer could only ever be yes.

“You and me.”

 

*          *          *

 

LATER

During the early hours of the morning, a prisoner will be awoken. She will sit up in her bunk, and she will be able to see the silhouette of a woman standing just out of the moon light’s reach.

“Lillian. It’s been a while,” the silhouette will say, and the voice will be familiar to Lillian. Familiar but aged.

Lillian will step up to the bars, searching the shadows the woman’s face. “I know you.”

“Yes.”

“Who are you?”

“A friend, once upon a time.”

“And now?”

“An ally, perhaps.”

“How did you get in here? I didn’t think the guards were too fond of letting strangers in to visit high-risk felons in the middle of the night.”

“I have my ways.”

Lillian will grip the bars, so close to figuring out who the woman is. “What do you want?”

“Can’t an old friend just drop by?”

“Not without wanting something.”

The woman will laugh and then say, “Still a sceptic, I see.” She will take a step forward and Lillian will be so close to being able to identify her. “I don’t want anything from you – you have nothing to give. No leverage. No power. Nothing. I simply came to tell you that we’re moving forward with phase two.”

 

*          *          *

 

NOW

With a busy week behind her, and a new one on the horizon, Kara’s sprawling out across her couch on a Sunday night, bored out of her mind and in desperate need of something to do. She almost picks up her phone to call Lena, but it’s almost eleven o’clock, and Kara knows Lena’s bone-deep tired.

She makes the quick decision to finish the painting she started but never finished some months ago. She pulls on her painting shirt and brings her canvas and easel out into the centre of her living room. She readies her paints her brushes and studies the half-finished landscape, paintbrush hovering over the canvas, unsure of how to proceed.

Her eyes keep darting over to the box in the far corner of the living room. The Box. It’s calling out to her. Begging her to just sneak one little peek.

Just one peek, is what it says. You know you want to.

And Kara does. She really, really does. She says she doesn’t care, or that she doesn’t want to know, and part of that is true, but another part of her – the curious detective part – wants to know. _Needs_ to know.

She shakes the thoughts loose and returns to her painting. Her strokes are short and timid at first, but eventually they turn long and languid. Up down, left right, she fills in the blanks of the landscape until she forgets about everything else.

The escape doesn’t last long, and now Kara can hear The Box calling out to her again. It’s loud and demanding and it just won’t stop.

It doesn’t have to mean anything, The Box calls out. One little peek.

Kara drops her paintbrush and marches over to the box, grabbing an old blanket from the back of her couch. She stares down at The Box, its voice somehow louder, before tossing the blanket over the box.

Silence.

The voice is gone, and Kara can breathe.

She finishes her painting of Midvale during Spring.

 

*          *          *

 

Just as Kara’s about to leave for work on Monday morning, she glances into the bin and finds the note her mother left. She’s halfway inclined to just take the rubbish out now – she’d meant to do it two days ago because keeping it around isn’t doing her any good. But as she stares at the balled-up note, a little voice in her head is calling to her, demanding that she pick the letter up. And for a reason unbeknownst to her, Kara reaches into the wastebasket and pulls the letter out.

She flattens it out on the kitchen counter and reads through it another time. The words are the same but now, reading through it with the clarity of day, Kara sees something new. Something she didn’t see before. The handwriting. She’s seen it before, which makes sense. This is her mother’s handwriting, but that’s not how it’s familiar to her. She’s seen it recently.

On a hunch, Kara shoves the note into her coat pocket and quickly leaves her apartment to head to work.

 

*          *          *

 

When Lena steps off the elevator and into the fourth-floor bullpen with two coffees in hand, she sees Kara sitting on the floor, legs crossed as she shuffles through the boxes by their desks.

“Morning,” Lena says, holding one of the cups of coffee in front of Kara’s face and waiting until she notices.

“Oh, thanks.” Kara’s head snaps up and a smile spreads across her face as she takes a sip.

“I thought we sent those down to the evidence room,” Lena says, upon realising they’re the files for the Naomi Baker case.

“We did,” Kara says, distracted, as she continues to rifle through the boxes, pulling stacks of files and notes out.

“So, why are they here?”

“I have a hunch,” is all Kara says, before she seems to find whatever it is she’s looking for, and pull a piece of paper out from her pocket.

Kara scrunches her face as she looks between the two pieces of paper.

“What’s wrong?”

There’s an undeniable pain in Kara’s eyes Lena can see when she looks away from the paper. They aren’t that usual blue that reminds Lena so much of home. They’re dim.

“Kara?”

“You remember the note we got with the USB? The one that had Lane’s confession on it?” Kara says, handing the note to Lena.

Lena accepts the note and nods, reading through it again. “Yeah. Why?”

“This is the note my mother left,” Kara says this quieter so only the two of them can hear, as she hands the crumbled note to Lena.

Lena looks between the two notes and understands. She knows why Kara’s so upset.

“When I first read through that note,” Kara points to the note that came with the USB, “I thought it looked familiar. I wasn’t sure where I knew it from, only that I’d seen it before. Anyway, this morning, for whatever reason, I read through the note my mother left, and that’s when I realised why the handwriting looked so familiar.”

An officer walks past, completely oblivious to the conversation going on between Kara and Lena.

“My mother wrote the note that came with the USB. She sent it to us, which means she’s involved in all this.”

 

*          *          *

 


End file.
